Slithering Destiny
by HinataElyonToph
Summary: When Professor Flitwick decides to retire, Dumbledore hires Esme O'Brien to take his place. While at Hogwarts, she runs into her old friend, Severus Snape, and her long since dormant feelings for him begin to resurface... SnapexOC takes place in S.S. HIATUS
1. Chapter 1: Enter: Esme O'Brien

**Hi guys!**

**Well I've decided that after a long hiatus, I'm not going to continue with Unpoisoned Ivy. Especially now since my interest has shifted from Fred (whom I still like but not as much) to the greasy haired, big nosed Potions master that is Severus Snape 3 I fell in love with him after going to the midnigh premier of _Deathly Hallows part 2,_ and (SPOILER TO THOSE WHO HAVE NOT SEEN IT) seeing the clip of him holding the dead form of Lily in his arms ad sobbing. So beautifly sad!**

**So after that, my OC, Esme O'Brien, was created. She is more developed than my other OC's I think, and I'm constantly coming up with more ideas about her :) Oh, this is going to be so much fun!**

**This fanfiction shall be rated M for language and _possible_ sexual content in the later chapters (I havent fully decided yet)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The franchise belongs to the amazing J. K. Rowling. I only own Esme :)**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>We are all born for love. It is the principle of existence, and its only end. -Benjamin Disraeli<em>

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><p>Esme took a deep breath as she stood outside of two tall, iron gates. Her long, midnight blue cloak fluttered in the breeze, making her look like something out of a fairytale. Her long, raven-black curls floated in the wind around her. She just couldn't believe how fortunate she has gotten in the past few years. To think she, of all people, was getting to do something she knew she'd be exceptionally good at. To think she, Esme O'Brien, was going to be teaching at the finest boarding school for witches and wizards in the world: <em>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.<em>

She sighed happily, shifting her grip on the small trolley that was latched to her rather large and heavy white trunk. This old piece of luggage was her old trunk from her schoolgirl days here at Hogwarts, and it contained some clothes and all the material she needed for her classes, consequently making it quite heavy. On the lid of her trunk was her initials printed in fading gold lettering. Next to that was a large version of the school's crest, also in fading gold. It was a wonder how it managed to stay in this kind of condition, seeing how it had been in her parents' attic ever since she graduated. She set the trunk on its side and let go of the trolley's handle, dropping her leather suitcase down onto the gravel next to her feet. This contained more clothes and all sorts of hygienic necessities that she may need to last the year. If not, then it gave her the excuse to take a trip down to Hogsmeade Village, not far from the castle.

Esme took one look at the gates and promptly concluded that they were locked. And for good reason, she noted. We can't have Muggles wandering onto the grounds despite that they can't see the school, now can we? With a glance on either side of her, she reached for the left pocket of her cloak and pulled out her wand. 12", Holly, Dragon Heartstring, good for hexes. She pointed it squarely at the gates and whispered _"Alohomora."_

Gold sparks flew from the tip of her wand and magic of the same color began crawling over the bars of the gates. When the magic dissolved into nothing, the gates swung open wide enough for a person of her size to walk through. Esme slipped her want back into her pocket, picked up her belongings, and walked forward, her shoes making a soft crunching sound as she stepped on the gravel path underneath her. The path climbed a high mountain up to Hogwarts castle, which towered above her in all its beauty, transformed from the ruins it was charmed to look like for the Muggles. She let another, more content sigh escape her lips as she trekked up the path to the old, wooden walkway bridge that spanned a small canyon and led to the castle's entrance courtyard. The big clock that took up most of the castle's entrance wall chimed five times in a deep ring. _Five o'clock sharp,_ she thought. _Right on time!_

She gazed with a dreamy expression at the large oak doors she was steadily approaching, lulled also by the trickling of the fountain in the middle of the courtyard. She remembered walking through those very doors during her years here as a student. She recalled how magical it was when she was only a first year with no clue on what to expect. Her heart gave a warm flutter at the thought that she would soon be doing it again. Only this time, she'd be doing it as a teacher. The two doors that she watched open so many times opened once again, revealing a familiar woman in emerald green robes, a black pointed hat, and a peculiar broach pinned to her black turtleneck collar. Her hair, Esme knew, was pulled up in a tight bun under the hat, and a pair of square glasses perched perfectly on the bridge of her nose. Her old and stern face lit up slightly upon noticing Esme.

"Esme O'Brien?" she asked, looking slightly bewildered.

"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall." Esme said politely, smiling. She hadn't seen the older woman since she graduated, which had been thirteen years ago when she was seventeen. And Professor McGonagall didn't look to have aged too much during that time. Sure, a few more wrinkles had been added here and there, and her hair was a tad duller in color, but otherwise she looked the same. "Right on time, just as I promised."

McGonagall smiled, her face more relaxed as opposed to her normal stern and strict face that she reserved for class. Esme remembered that well. "Yes, you have always been very good about that haven't you?" she said. Esme nodded, making her silky hair tickle her freckly cheeks. "You were never late to any of my classes as I recall. And you paid much attention as well."

"Yes," Esme felt her cheeks grow warm, flattered at the praising tone her old professor was using, rendered rather speechless as she racked her brain for something else to say, but finding that nothing else was needed right at the moment.

"Well, come in, Miss O'Brien. I was instructed to escort you to Professor Dumbledore's office as soon as you arrived." McGonagall side-stepped out of the way so Esme could go in first. Esme pulled her trunk up the stone steps as carefully as she could, politely refusing any help from the older woman. She finally got past the final step and glided smoothly into the entrance hall, dodging the enormous pendulum of the clock on her way in.

The rays of the setting sun streamed in from the massive windows and cast rectangles of light onto the gleaming stone floor. It was quiet, not at all what she was used to. Usually there would be chatter bouncing around the hall mixed with the thuds of footsteps as students headed to and fro for their classes. But the students weren't expected to arrive until tomorrow evening. That gave her plenty of time to get her class and belongings organized.

They walked towards a large and beautiful stone staircase, furnished with careful and intricate designs suitable for a school such as Hogwarts. Not wanting to drag her trunk up all the stairs manually, Esme pulled out her wand again and waved it in the direction of her larger luggage. Immediately, a stream of purple-ish gold magic wafted from her wand and engulfed her trunk, lifting it effortlessly into the air in the process. Satisfied, Esme followed McGonagall up the stairs.

"The Headmaster inquired that he wanted to discuss a few things with you," McGonagall continued, leading Esme down a series of hallways towards Professor Dumbledore's office. Their footsteps echoed off the high ceilings, giving off an eerie feeling because the castle was so empty. "He wouldn't say what about, specifically, and it's not in my nature to pry."

"Mm," Esme nodded in agreement, completely understanding her old Professor's statement, and also understanding that there were things that needed to be discussed between her and the Headmaster. Things that probably had to do with schedules and her classes and rules that applied to teachers. It only made sense for him to do so.

McGonagall cast a sideways glance at her.

"You've grown so much since the last time I saw you, Miss O'Brien." she observed. Then she added with a slight chuckle, "Well, the last time I saw you was when you were seventeen."

Esme laughed good-naturedly. "Yes, I've done a lot more growing since then, Professor."

McGonagall laughed along with her. "Oh, you don't need to call me that. I'm not your professor anymore. You may call me Minerva."

"Oh, right. Sorry Pro-err...Minerva." Esme said, finding it odd to be calling the older woman by her first name when she had been calling her 'Professor McGonagall' for as long as she could remember. And it was only polite anyways. "Well then I shall extend the same invitation to you. We're colleagues now, so you may call me Esme."

"Alright then." Minerva seemed satisfied with that statement, as she gave an affirmative nod just as they reached the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office. In front of them was a large stone gargoyle. Esme remembered from her school days that it was the guardian of the Headmaster's office.

_"Lemon drop."_ Minerva stated flatly. It looked to Esme that she was a bit displeased with Dumbledore's choice of password. Esme thought it was rather adorable, using the name of a candy as a password.

The gargoyle leapt aside to reveal a spiraling wooden staircase. Minerva led Esme up the staircase, with the latter's trunk still floating effortlessly behind her.

The staircase ended into a large round room that was furnished with all sorts of curious knick-knacks and decorated tapestries. Moving portraits hung all over the walls, containing the likenesses of all the previous Headmasters of Hogwarts. The office looked to be about the same as all the times Esme had come in as a student. Finally, her attention shifted to the old wizard sitting behind the desk in the middle of the room, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement at her curiousity behind half-moon glasses.

"Ah, Minerva, I see you have brought our newest addition to the faculty." Professor Dumbledore addressed his colleague, who nodded her head.

"She was right on time, as she promised, Albus." Minerva told him.

"Excellent, excellent." Dumbledore beamed. He finally turned to Esme, who felt a little overwhelmed at once again being in the presence of one of the most powerful men in the Wizarding World. She made sure that her luggage was set down carefully on the floor before speaking, not wanting them to float there forever and waste her energy. "Esme O'Brien, it's such a pleasure to see you again."

"Likewise, Headmaster." Esme returned his cheerful smile, albeit shyly. He made a motion with his hand toward a chair sitting in the middle of his office, facing his desk, gesturing for her to take a seat. She obeyed without saying a word, a smile still on her lips. Minerva stayed standing.

"If you don't mind, Albus, I will be going to clean and organize my classroom." She told Dumbledore, who nodded.

"Not at all, Minerva." He replied, his smile still in place. "Don't let me keep you."

"Very well," Minerva shot one last kind smile at Esme. "I trust I'll see you at dinner tonight, Miss O'Br-err, Esme."

"Of course, Minerva." Esme agreed, finding it amusing that Minerva was having more problems using her first name that she was using the older woman's. Then again, Minerva was older than her, and had been referring to her as _'Miss O'Brien'_ for as long as she knew her. It would take some time to get used to it.

Her old teacher turned and walked out the door. Dumbledore turned his attention back on herself.

"I'm delighted that you chose to accept this position, Esme." He began. "You were the first person I thought of to contact as soon as Filius decided to retire."

Esme blinked, caught off guard. She was really the first person the Headmaster had thought of to take the position? She knew all about Professor Flitwick's–the Charms teacher that had taught her when she was a student–decision to retire and enjoy the rest of his years, as he was quite old. But he had been such a wonderful teacher. Did Dumbledore really think she was the right person to teach Charms?

"I just knew you would be the right person for the job," Dumbledore seemed to have read her mind as he went on. "You had very high marks in the subject as a student. In a lot of subjects, really. It proves that you were a true Ravenclaw."

Esme felt flattered that the Headmaster was praising her for her grades. Students sorted in Ravenclaw were known for their intelligence. But that didn't mean she didn't get any bad marks. She had done poorly in History of Magic, as Professor Binns, the only teacher that was a ghost, droned on and on, making the subject rather boring and pointless. Her Potions grade suffered a bit as well, as she could never really brew the elixirs correctly. One of her old classmates, who was also one of her closest friends, tried to tutor her, but she had gotten rather frustrated with him because he seemed to be making up his own instructions instead of following the textbook's recipes. He was rather stubborn about the subject, which had ignited an argument between them. Towards the end of it, Esme had refused to be tutored by him any longer and had stormed out of the room in an angry fit. They made up eventually, but Esme, in her own stubborn-ness, declined his offers to tutor her again.

"Thank you, sir." She said. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in amusement at her. He picked up a piece of parchment from his desk, cluttered with so many other rolls of parchment, some scribbled on in different colors of ink, some completely blank.

"This is the schedule of your classes, Esme." He handed the parchment in his grasp to her, watching her hazel and gold-flecked eyes skim over the words written in his neat, looping handwriting. "Your office hours shall be the third hour on Tuesdays and thrusdays."

Esme shook her head yes again, tearing her eyes away from the paper to look up at the Headmaster. He seemed to be studying her with curiosity and amusement.

"You look more and more like Vesta every time I see you, Esme." he observed. "How is she doing?"

"She's doing fine, thank you for asking." Esme told him, another exalted blush coloring her cheeks. She got that a lot. Many older wizards and witches she knew always said she was looking more and more like her mother every day.

"And Asinius?" Dumbledore pressed on.

"Dad's doing fine as well." she told him. "He sends you his regards."

"Wonderful!" the Headmaster beamed. "And I take it Divan is well?"

"As well as you can be when you're Divan." Esme chuckled, the love for her brother–two years her junior–filling her heart at the thought of him.

Dumbledore laughed along with her. "It's good to hear your family is doing well, Esme." he said kindly. "But now, I'm afraid, we must get back to business. As you remember, first year curfew is at 7:00, second year curfew at 7:30, third years at 8:00, an so on and so forth."

"Yes, I remember that clearly." Esme chuckled again, remembering the few times she had snuck out of the Ravenclaw common room to get a late night snack from the kitchens. "Is there a specific schedule for patrolling?"

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded, folding his long, bony fingers together on top of his desk. "You shall patrol the halls on Mondays and Fridays. Seeing as the first day of classes falls on a Monday this year, you will have to patrol that night. It would be wise to report to the entrance hall after seventh year curfew, which is at 10:00."

Esme said nothing, just nodding to show she understood, waiting for him to continue. She knew she had more responsibility as a teacher, more than she'd had when she was a prefect in her fifth, sixth, and seventh years.

"As always, the Dark Forest is forbidden to all students." Dumbledore reminded her. She remembered that part as well, too.

"Speaking of forbidden places," the Headmaster broke her out of her thinking as his face became a bit serious. He leaned forward and began speaking in a low voice. "My old friend, Nicholas Flamel, came to me a few days ago, asking if I could hide a very special object here in the school. He wanted to hide the Sorcerer's Stone, a very powerful artifact, here where it would be most safe."

Esme's eyes widened. The Sorcerer's Stone could turn any metal into 100% pure gold, and produce the Elixir of Life, a liquid that could make the drinker immortal. But why would it need to be protected? Unless-

"He fears that Voldemort's (He frowned a bit when Esme flinched at the name) most loyal followers will try to get their hands on it. If that happens, you know what the consequences will be."

Esme nodded gravely, her eyes clouded over with solemnity and fear. If _You-Know-Who's_ most faithful servants were to get ahold of the stone, there was a huge chance that they could somehow revive him. And if that happened, no one was safe.

"That is why, tomorrow, we are all going to go down the trapdoor in the third floor's right hand corridor. You and a few other teachers will place enchantments in different rooms to ensure that the Stone is under the highest protection. Tonight, however, I want you to think about what sort of enchantment you will use."

Esme nodded her head again, noticing that that was the only thing she seemed to be doing today. She already had a good idea about what she was going to do.

Dumbledore smiled at her again, fully ready to change the subject. "Well then, I believe that is everything. You already know about the students' schedules-oh, silly me. I almost forgot."

He handed her a stack of seven rolls of parchment. "These are your student rosters for roll call."

Esme tried to grasp them and her class schedule without messing up the parchment, trying to keep them neat. She found she wasn't doing a very good job. An idea popped into her head, and then she dumped the parchment unceremoniously back on Dumbledore's desk. Pulling out her wand again, she picked up each individual roll of parchment and shrunk them down to miniature size with a light tap. Once shrunken, she slipped them into the pocket she usually stored her wand. Now she had her hands free just in case the Headmaster had anything else to give her. But she remembered he had already said that was everything.

"One more important detail I forgot to mention," Dumbledore said then. _I guess that wasn't everything,_ Esme thought. His eyes glinted with mischievous amusement. "It seems as though Ravenclaw is now without a Head of House..."

Esme's own eyes lit up, already knowing where the conversation was going. "I would love to take the position, sir!"

The Headmaster beamed. "I knew you would, Esme." he said

Esme grinned back. She just couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe she was this lucky. She was the new Charms teacher and Head of Ravenclaw House! It was like fantasy becoming reality.

"Now, I believe we should have your things taken to you new sleeping quarters." Dumbledore eyed her luggage that was still sitting by the office door. She wasn't looking forward to levitating them all the way to her rooms, wherever they may be. _"Nyklus!"_

With a pop so loud it made Esme jump, a terribly skinny little creature wearing a ragged tunic with some equally-as-shabby, striped boxers appeared by her chair. The House-Elf bowed to the Headmaster. "How may Nyklus serve Headmaster Dumbledore?" he asked.

Dumbledore was not cruel to House-Elves as some rich families were, most of them were the Pureblood families, or families who had all wizards in their lineage, that were prejudiced against Half-bloods and Muggleborns, people with Muggles in their family history. Dumbledore treated House-Elves like members of the faculty, as they were responsible for cleaning the castle and preparing the meals.

"Take our new Charms teacher's luggage to her new sleeping quarters." The Headmaster told Nyklus carefully. "The one with the lake view would be nice for her, I think."

"Yes, Headmaster." The House-Elf bowed again, understanding his job fully. He waved his bony hand at her trunk and leather suitcase, and her luggage vanished, having been magically transported to her new sleeping quarters.

"Now," Dumbledore began speaking to Nyklus again. "Please show Professor O'Brien the way to her rooms. Then you may go back to the kitchens."

Esme didn't hear the House-Elf's reply. She was busy letting her new title sound in her head. Professor Esme O'Brien, Hogwarts Charms teacher and Head of Ravenclaw House. It had a nice ring to it.

Esme followed Nyklus out of the Headmaster's office after a polite goodbye was exchanged. She glided behind him at a leisurely pace, her eyes shifting to her surroundings. It all looked so beautiful now that she was able to take it all in. When she was younger, she didn't have time to appreciate it, as she was too busy trying to get to class. But now that she was older and didn't need to worry about that (as much) she could take it in and marvel at the beauty of the castle's interior.

As they turned down a corridor, another person–a man–came around the bend going in the opposite direction. Esme's gaze found his, and her eyes suddenly widened.

It seemed as though time had stopped.

She knew this man. He was taller than her by a probable eight inches; she was about eye-level with his collarbone. His skin was as pale as hers was, maybe even more so, and he had a few stress lines on his face that were probably due to the seemingly permanent frown gracing his lips and the downwards, grumpy-looking arch of his eyebrows. His eyes, a dark onyx in color, were wide with surprise, and she knew then that he recognized her. He was thin, but well built with his broad shoulders and not overly bulging muscles. His hair was shoulder-length, jet black, and looked incredibly greasy, but yet he had no odor hanging around to suggest he didn't shower. Oppositely, his scent, or what small portion of it she managed to get a whiff of, was rather intoxicating. And familiar.

Esme's pale cheeks turned rosy as the blood rushed to them in a blush. Her heart pounded inside her chest like a fluttering hummingbird trapped in a cage, wanting to be free. She averted her hazel and gold-flecked eyes from his piercing onyx ones, not wanting him to see how red she had become.

It seemed as though her old friend Severus Snape was going to grace her with his presence again after all these years.

But as soon as it seemed that time had stopped, it started back up again. Esme's mind came crashing down to the real world as she remembered that she was following the House-Elf Nyklus to her new sleeping quarters. Letting her gaze shift to the dark-haired man fleetingly once more, she allowed herself to give him one tiny, almost curt nod as a timid 'hello'. Severus had apparently seen the nod, because he returned it vaguely before gliding ahead in his black, billowing robes and disappearing around the corner she and Nyklus had just rounded a few minutes previous.

Esme was dimly aware of her surroundings now, so lost was she in her thoughts as a result of seeing her old friend again. She hadn't seen him since the ending of her sixth year, which would have been the ending of his seventh and final year. They had kept up a minimal contact during the first month in her summer break. But pretty soon, his returning letters had gotten so fewer and far in between until he hadn't responded at all. She had no idea as to why though. And now there he was, thrust back into her life for a few more seconds.

This thought brought up an excellent question: Why was he here? Did he just want to walk around and revisit his old haunts...or, well, his old, good haunts?

_No,_ Esme shook her head, dismissing the thought. She could remember, as a direct witness, that he had had more bad experiences here than good. And the good ones were like his letters–fewer and far in between. It seemed like they had hardly ever happened at all. That assumption was out.

Was he speaking to one of their old professors about something, or catching up on old times?

_Definitely not,_ she dismissed again. She knew him well enough; if he didn't have to speak to his old Professors anymore, then he sure as heck wouldn't make the effort to do it.

One more thought struck her. Could he possibly be _teaching_ here?

She felt her heart skip a beat at this thought, but she almost laughed out loud. Severus, a school teacher? _Never!_ It just wasn't him._ Didn't fit his style,_ she thought. No, he seemed better off experimenting with potions and getting wealthy off his findings. He was just that talented in that particular field in her opinion.

Esme was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she didn't even realize that they had apparently arrived at her new sleeping quarters. It was when she almost tripped over Nyklus, who came up only a little higher than her knees, that she brought her head down from the clouds.

"Nyklus hopes that Professor O'Brien is pleased with her rooms." Nyklus said in his high-pitched and yet gravelly voice. He produced a small, silver key seemingly out of nowhere and unlocked the room. He opened the door for Esme, who, after thanking him, took a few hesitant steps in.

It reminded her so much of her old school dormitory and the Ravenclaw Common Room, and yet it was all for her. The room was shaped the same, with an already cheerfully roaring fireplace on the wall opposite the door. A comfortable looking, three-cushion couch and two matching, equally delightful love-seats sat in the middle of the room, grouped near the fireplace on top of a soft looking rug. Through an archway to the right, there was an oak dining table with a matching set of four chairs sitting in the middle of the next room. This was sitting on top of another rug, which was identical to the one in the sitting area. On either side of the fireplace, and placed in a flower-like pattern around the room, were small alcoves that had iron torches mounted high on the walls. Underneath the torches in the alcoves near the door were large, empty bookshelves. Perfect for her books-for-entertainment collection. In the two alcoves by the fireplace were large windows, which, like Dumbledore had said earlier, had a very pleasant view of the lake on the east side of the castle. To the left of the sitting area was another door, which Esme guessed led to the bedroom and bathroom. To her delight, her trunk and leather suitcase were sitting neatly behind the couch, along with several other boxes containing more personal items that she had sent ahead of her earlier that morning.

"It's lovely," Esme said with a smile to the House-Elf. "Thank you, Nyklus."

Nyklus nodded. "Is there anything Professor O'Brien wishes Nyklus to bring? A drink or a snack?"

"No thank you, Nyklus," Esme told him. "I believe I'm all set. What time will dinner be starting?"

"Dinner shall be at six-thirty. Would Professor O'Brien like Nyklus to escort her to the Great Hall?" Nyklus asked.

"No thank you," Esme declined again. She wanted to be left alone for a little while to unpack and sort her things as well as her thoughts. "I think I can find my way there on my own."

"As Professor O'Brien wishes." Nyklus bowed.

Esme politely thanked him for his help and dismissed him, after which he vanished with that loud pop that still made her jump despite being ready for it. She looked around her new living quarters, a small smile gracing her lips. Then she looked to her collection of boxes waiting to be unpacked and sighed.

This was going to take a while.

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><p><strong>And that's the end of Chapter 1!<strong>

**Just so you know, I'm going by Professor Flitwick's look in the first movie to justify his age. **

**Reviews are love, constructive criticism is appreciated, and flames wil be use to roast marshmallows :3**

**Until next time, my lovely readers! :)**

**~H.E.T.**


	2. Chapter 2: The New Charms Teacher

**Howdy everyone! :D It's time for an update!**

**So sorry I've kept you all waiting! I hope this makes up for my horrible updating habits! But there is good news: SPRING BREAK IS NEXT WEEK! WOOOOOHHOOOOOOOOOO! We have absolutely no plans for it so I will have a chance to write a lot of chapters and update a lot of my stories! YEEHAW!**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter. This wonderful series belongs to the genius that is J. K. Rowling**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; It is less difficult to know that it has begun. - <strong>Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<strong>_

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><p><em>Esme's uniquely colored eyes darted nervously from left to right as she slowly and timidly made her way down the length of the train. Now that her parents and brother were left behind at the train platform at Kings Cross Station, her confidence from <em>_this morning__had dwindled to almost nothing. Now, she was about as nervous as a Chihuahua. And with good reason. She had no idea what to expect._

_She had begged her mother and father, both separately and when they were in the same room with each other, constantly over the summer to tell her about Hogwarts and what she might expect. But they had stubbornly refused, claiming it would "ruin the experience" if they told her. They told her she would get Sorted into one of the four houses–Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin–upon her arrival. But they wouldn't say how._

_Esme huffed frustratedly. On top of that, she had no idea how good she would be. She didn't know of her magical talents, or that she had any at all. All that she knows was that she could make little droplets of water from the fountain in the garden rise up and form into shapes, and she could make her mother's favorite vase spontaneously explode when she lost her temper. She usually got off easy with that because her magic, like all the other kids like her, was uncontrollable before she got accepted to Hogwarts. But now...now was a different story altogether._

_The eleven-year-old girl was so preoccupied with her thoughts, so worried was she about the turn-out of the upcoming school year, that she wasn't paying attention to where she was going._

**WHUMP**

_Esme squeaked as she collided with something solid but definitely not a wall, smashing her nose slightly against whatever it was. She stepped back from the solid thing, but lost her footing and fell backwards on her bottom. She tried her best to make sure she didn't roll onto her back, as she was wearing a skirt. She felt a mortified blush creep into her cheeks at how clumsy she could be when she was lost in thought._

_"Watch where you're going!" snapped a voice. It was then she realized that she had collided with a person instead of an object. And a boy, too, by the sound of the voice. She felt her blush deepen._

_How embarrassing._

_"I'm sorry." Esme squeaked, averting her already downcast gaze to her knees, suddenly finding them very interesting. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."_

_She could almost feel the boy's eyes boring into the top of her head. "Indeed." he said, his voice becoming softer, silkier, more cool and collecting. "Do you always have your head in the clouds?"_

_Esme's cheeks burned again, but with anger this time. She didn't know why she was getting this huffy over a comment that didn't make a really big deal. Maybe the stress she had been feeling was getting to her._

_"No!" she snapped, finally looking up to glare at the boy. Hazel eyes met onyx, and she stood up to stare him down. It didn't have the effect she wanted, however. He was a bit taller than her. "I just have a lot to think about __today, that's all!"_

_The boy said nothing, just letting his dark, onyx eyes look her up and down, taking in her appearance. She herself was doing the same. He looked to be no older than twelve years old, with pale skin and greasy-looking, shoulder length, black hair. He looked a bit skinny and malnourished, and the incredibly baggy clothing he was wearing didn't help much in that aspect. He also had a long nose that almost looked like it had been broken at least once._

_The boy continued to get a good look at her, taking in her flushed, freckly cheeks and wide, hazel eyes that looked to have tiny spots of gold in them. Her curly, raven black hair fell to her shoulders, brushing the unique, medieval-in-style dress that she was wearing. He had never seen anyone like her before._

_"You're a first year, aren't you?" he asked her, in reality not sounding like he cared one way or another and would like to just brush past her, but seeming to want to at least make polite conversation._

_"I am." she huffed. She crossed her arms over her chest, still feeling quite miffed about how he had treated her after she had apologized for accidentally running into him. "Got a problem with that?"_

_"No." he groaned, running a hand through his hair, clutching his scalp. He sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm being terribly rude."_

_"Indeed you are." Esme butted in, glaring._

_"I'm just in a hurry. Excuse me." He finally did what she half-expected him to do and brushed past her, almost gliding away from her as he walked down the hallway. Her bizarre anger towards him subsided a little as she stood there, dumbstruck for a moment by his sudden movement, before she began scrambling after him._

_"Well, don't just leave me out here!" she exclaimed when she caught up to him, glancing briefly out the train's windows at the British countryside zooming past the window in green, blue, and gray blurs due to the train's speed. He sighed agitatedly, but made no objections to her following him. She fell silent, her anger finally subsiding completely, before speaking again._

_"What's your name?" she asked._

_"Severus Snape." he told her grudgingly, hoping that by answering her question she would shut up. To his annoyance, she didn't._

_"Severus?" she tested his name out, liking the way it sounded when it rolled off her tongue. She found herself smiling. "I like that name. It sounds dark and mysterious. Almost macho-like."_

_Esme could've swore she saw his pale cheeks turn pink for a moment, but he scoffed. "Yeah, right." he said. "You're just saying that. You'd be better off calling me Snivellus. That's what everyone else seems to like to call me."_

_"No, I'm being serious." she told him, shaking her head for emphasis. "And Snivellus sounds like a horrid name. I'd much rather call you Severus than Snivellus, because that's your real name."_

_Now she knew he was blushing, because she watched his cheeks go from pink to red in two seconds flat. This conversation was becoming very awkward for him it seemed._

_"Err...thanks...I-I guess..." he cleared his throat, intending to change the subject."What's yours?" he asked._

_"Esme O'Brien," she answered him, her smile returning._

**KNOCK KNOCK**  
><em><br>__Esme's smile suddenly dropped to a frown. "Hey, Severus, did you hear–?" she stopped mid-sentence when she turned to ask him if he heard that knocking, only to discover he had suddenly disappeared. Her surroundings faded away into pitch blackness, and she found she couldn't see anything._

**KNOCK KNOCK**

Esme's eyes flew open at the sound. She stared up, not at the ceiling of the train, but at the ceiling of her bed. She was laying on her four-poster bed; overtop the cream-colored sheets next to her opened leather suitcase, her legs dangling off the side.

It was only a dream, she mused. She took a deep breath as she continued to stare at the dark wood of her canopy.

**KNOCK KNOCK**

There was that knocking again. It wasn't part of the dream like she had originally thought. It was coming from her sitting room.

Someone's at the door, she finally realized once she managed to collect her thoughts. "Coming!" she shouted as she stood up from the bed, smoothing her dress down to make herself look presentable. She strode out of her bedroom, past her cloak–which she had draped over the back of the couch earlier–and to the front door. She opened it, but it appeared as if no one was there. Then she looked down to see that Nyklus the House Elf had returned.

"Oh, hello Nyklus." Esme said cheerfully. Nyklus bowed deeply to her, so deeply that she feared he might fall over. But he didn't, and she was glad. His large, brown eyes met her hazel and gold-flecked ones once he straightened himself out.

"Nyklus was sent by Headmaster Dumbledore," the House Elf explained himself, twiddling his thumbs. "He wondered why Professor O'Brien has not shown up for dinner yet."

Esme blinked at his statement, feeling her stomach sink. She couldn't have slept that long! It didn't seem that long. But of course when one is asleep, they lose their perception of time. Her head turned sharply to glance at the grandfather clock standing by her bedroom door. It was currently 6:47. Ok, so she hadn't missed dinner completely. She was just seventeen minutes late. _Smashing._

"I'm truly sorry, Nyklus," Esme met his eyes again. "I was unpacking and I somehow fell asleep and lost track of time."

Nyklus shook his head with a toothy smile. "Professor O'Brien has no need to say she is sorry. But does she need an escort to the Great Hall?"

Esme declined his offer for the second time that day. She believed she knew where to go from her rooms. If she just back-tracked the way she and the House Elf had gone from Dumbledore's office, then she should be able to find it, no problem.

Nyklus nodded in understanding "Nyklus will go explain to Headmaster Dumbledore." And with that accursed popping sound, he vanished again.

Esme sighed tiredly, running a hand through her bangs. What a wonderful first impression she was making on the rest of the staff, showing up late like this. She wouldn't be surprised if several of them glared at her disapprovingly. Some teachers, as she recalled, were very strict about being on time. That was why she made it her priority to show up on time. But fate didn't seem to favor her at the moment.

Stepping out of her sleeping quarters, Esme locked the door behind her and proceeded down the hallway. As she walked, her thoughts drifted back to her dream. It was of when she first got on the Hogwarts Express when she was eleven years old, the day she became a Ravenclaw, the day she met Severus.

Severus…

She had seen him today. The reality of the moment came back to her, forgotten briefly as she had begun unpacking her belongings. She had really seen him today, in a corridor as she was being led to her quarters. She still had no idea as to _why _he was there, but maybe the topic would be something to ask Dumbledore after dinner.

Esme yawned as she traveled down a few flights of stairs, waiting until a few had swiveled or levitated in the direction she wanted to go, and occasionally jumped the stair in the middle so she wouldn't get her foot stuck. She hated the trick steps with a passion, as she sometimes forgot about them and did manage to get her foot stuck. It never failed.

Finally, she glided stealthily into the Great Hall–the hall where the students gathered for meals as well as to work on homework during breaks. Four long tables' stretched from the entrance to where a small stage-like platform resided at the other end of the long hall. Another table sat on this platform, stretching the expanse of the far wall and taking sharp corners on either end against the adjacent walls. These sections were small compared to the rest of the table. It was at this table where a number of uniquely dressed adults were sitting, talking amongst each other and eating their food, surprisingly not noticing her approaching them. This collection of men and women was the Hogwarts staff.

She could spot Dumbledore easily amongst them, as his chair was larger, bordering on throne-like, and sitting smack-dab in the middle of the table. Minerva was seated to his right, which would be Esme's left, taking a sip of the contents in her goblet and saying something to the Headmaster, who smiled and nodded. Esme looked down the row of teachers, trying to see if there were any still there from her school days, recognizing only a few others.

She could see Professor Silvanus Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, sitting near the corner of the table on the Headmaster's left, which was her right. He was shoving a forkful of food into his mouth with his right hand, his only good hand. The other one, she remembered, had been bitten off at the elbow by a Chimaera—a vicious animal that was native to Greece with the head of a lion, the body of a goat, and the tail of a dragon—before he could escape. And even on his good hand, there were two digits missing, which he had said had been bitten off by a Hippogriff—an animal with the head, wings, and front legs of an eagle and the hind end of a horse—during a lesson when he had first started out teaching. Esme was surprised he was _still_ teaching with all his injuries.

A few chairs to Kettleburn's right sat Professor Pomona Sprout, the Herbology professor. She was a rather large boned woman dressed in plant-like attire, which fit her position. She treated her position like an art, having a great affection for it. Almost like how Severus used to act when it came to potions.

She caught sight of the huge form of Rubeus Hagrid, or just Hagrid as everyone liked to call him, sitting on the left side of the table, drinking from his goblet like Minerva had done earlier, but to Esme it looked like he was guzzling it. She suspected that the goblet was filled with some type of liquor. Hagrid was the type of man that couldn't resist alcohol and drank excessive amounts, but he had a good heart under the thick mane of wild hair that served as a beard.

Esme's eyes traveled down the rest of the table, and they widened when they landed on the dark form sitting near the end.

Severus was still here.

She felt her heart skip a beat as she watched him stare down at his plate as he ate. The frown she had seen on his face earlier was still there, and she had to wonder if his face was permanently stuck that way. If that was so, then it was a pity. In the few times she had seen him smile, it had taken her breath away. But that was so long ago.

Why was he still here?

Maybe Dumbledore invited him to stay for dinner. Yes, that seemed to be the reason. In her mind there was still no way that he could _possibly_ be teaching here. It just didn't fit him.

It seemed at that moment Dumbledore had finally noticed her standing in front of the staff table. How anyone else didn't notice her was simply beyond her.

"Ah, Esme," the Headmaster said loudly, earning the staff's attention. Esme fleetingly looked at Severus, and saw that he had looked up as well. Her eyes met his, and she felt one corner of her mouth turn upwards in a small, shy half-smile. As soon as she did this, he flinched and looked away as if she had struck him across the face. She gazed at him in puzzlement until the Headmaster grabbed her attention again. "There you are! I was wondering why you didn't show up for dinner."

Esme smiled sheepishly. She felt an embarrassed blush blossom on her face. "My apologies, Headmaster, but I seemed to have fallen asleep while unpacking my belongings."

"That's quite alright, Esme." Dumbledore dismissed her kindly, his eyes twinkling in amusement as they usually did. "Now, let me introduce you to the rest of the staff."

He stood up and cleared his throat, and the idle chatter of the teachers stopped.

"Everyone, this is Miss Esme O'Brien." Dumbledore gestured to her with his hand, and Esme got a good look at all the rings he wore. She waved shyly at all the older pairs of curious eyes watching her, then hid both of her hands behind her back, a nervous habit from when she was a child. "She has agreed to take Filius's place as Charm's teacher and Ravenclaw Head of House."

Esme felt completely awkward right now. Her hands began fidgeting behind her back, the second stage of her nervous habit, her fingers clasped and unclasped, wound and unwound, as she stared down the eyes watching her with effort.

"I believe a few of you remember her from her time as a student." Dumbledore turned his smile on the rest of the staff. Esme saw Professor Sprout nod.

"Indeed I do," she said. She turned a smile onto Esme. "It's good to see you again, Miss O'Brien."

Esme cleared her throat. "L-likewise, Professor." She squeaked.

Sprout smiled at her again before turning back to her food, letting Dumbledore introduce the Professors that Esme didn't know and/or remember. He moved down the table, letting them each say a small welcome to Esme, before stopping at Severus on the end, who was still trying to avoid meeting her gaze.

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore mused, glancing at Severus for a moment before turning his attention to Esme again. "You remember Severus, don't you, Esme?"

Esme nodded, watching curiously as Severus glared at the Headmaster out of the corner of his eye, who seemed to've not seen due to the curtains of Severus' black hair.

"Professor Slughorn had decided to retire about 11 years ago, and Severus had agreed to take his place as Potions Master and as Head of Slytherin House." Dumbledore went on. Esme's eyebrows rose as she glanced at Severus again, who was still bent on avoiding looking at her. So he _was_ a teacher here. Well she supposed the position of Potions professor was quite fitting for him, as he was very talented in that area during their school days.

Esme broke out of her thinking in time to hear Dumbledore say "If I remember correctly, you two were quite good friends when you were students here."

Esme nodded absently, glancing at Severus one more time to see if he would look up again, but was disappointed when he kept staring down at his plate, which was only half clean.

She looked back at Dumbledore, who was looking down the entire length of the table, trying to find a place for her to sit. She looked to, and her heart practically skipped a beat when she discovered that the only available seat left was right next to Severus. She felt the corners of her mouth start to turn up at a rapid pace.

"Well Esme," the Headmaster said, his eyes twinkling knowingly in mischief, which surprised Esme. "Seeing as it's the only available seat left, your new place at the table will be right next to Severus."

"A-Alright," Esme didn't know when she started stammering, but she was stammering now as he heart began to race, her cheeks growing warm. "Th-thank you, Headmaster."

Dumbledore smiled warmly at her again before sitting down and turning his attention back on his meal.

Esme's heart pounded in her chest as she made her way around the table, skirting around the other professors chairs before arriving at her new seat. She pulled the chair back and sat down nervously, scooting closer to the table just as the empty dishes in front of her filled themselves up. She glanced fleetingly to her right at Severus once more, her cheeks flushed red.

"Severus." She murmured in greeting.

She saw him glance quickly at her before returning to his food. "Esme." His deep baritone voice replied.

Esme's blushed deepened at the sound of his voice. It was much deeper than she remembered, but of course she was sixteen when she had last heard it. Trying to hide her rosy face, she turned to her food and began to eat.

It was silent between them for the longest time until finally Esme broke the silence. "How are things with you?"

Severus didn't respond. Esme looked up at him, waiting for an answer and secretly wanting to hear more of that voice of his. But he just looked away from her and kept his lips sealed.

Esme looked down at her plate. "I've been wondering something, Severus," she murmured only loud enough for him to hear. He stayed quiet, but she watched out of the corner of her eye that his own eyes had turned to her, awaiting for what she had been wondering.

She turned her head to face him. "Remember the last letter I sent to you, back around Christmas time in my seventh year?"

She watched him look away from her and turn his head so she got a good view of the curtain of greasy black hair on the back. He nodded vaguely, the motion so tiny that Esme would have missed it if she wasn't turned towards him.

"Why didn't you reply-?" Esme's question was cut short as Severus abruptly stood up from his chair. She watched with shock and confusion as he walked swiftly towards the entrance to the Great Hall, the long, black cloak that he wore billowed out from behind him almost gracefully in time to his strides. And then he was gone.

"-to it…" Esme whispered in sadden confusion. She slumped back into her seat dejectedly, ignoring the curious stares from the rest of the staff and the sympathetic eyes of the Headmaster.

_What did she say?_

* * *

><p><strong>Aww, poor Esme :( Don't worry, things will get better...eventually...<strong>

**Reviews are love, criticism is accepted, and I will throw flames back in yo face XD**

**Until next time, my lovely readers! :)**

**~H.E.T.**


	3. Chapter 3: Enchantments

**YAY! Update time again!**

**I TOLD you guys I would get an update in during spring break! Heck, I might even get TWO updates in!**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter! The amazingness that is a seven book/8 movie series belongs to the ever awesome J. K. Rowling! I only own Esme.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>It was midnight, and the castle was silent. The staff had gone to bed, and the halls were dark. But not everyone was sleeping peacefully. Esme lay in bed, wide awake and staring at the ceiling of her four-poster. The curtains had been draw and the torches extinguished, but her eyes were wide open, unwillingly memorizing the patterns in the wood above her. Her mind was too alive for her to get any sleep. It was reeling with the events of earlier that evening.<p>

Why had Severus refused to look at her, or even speak to her? He had never struck her before as the type to be shy around someone he already knew. And why had he bolted after she had asked him why he hadn't replied to her last letter? He could've just said he was busy or it was complicated and "let's leave it at that". There wasn't any need to storm out like he had, was there?

Esme sighed and rested her right wrist over her eyes. Severus was about as easy to figure out as the Draught of the Living Dead potion she had botched horribly in sixth year. It wouldn't be the first time she had wished there was some kind of book that told her how to deal with men, specifically Severus.

Knowing that she probably wasn't going to get much sleep for a while, Esme pushed back the cream-colored sheets and drew back the matching curtains, standing up from the bed. The white silk nightgown that she was wearing cascaded down to the half-way point in her shins. She picked up her wand that was lying on her bedside table and gave it a small wave.

"_Incendio,"_ she whispered.

The iron torches mounted on the walls around the room flamed into life, filling the room with warm light. Esme had to clamp her eyes shut due to them being used to the dark. Once her eyes had adjusted, she placed her wand back onto the bedside table and wandered over to her leather bag, which she had discarded on top of her trunk at the foot of her bed. She reached into a small pocket near the back and pulled out an old and worn parchment envelope. She carried it back to her bed and sat down, lifting the flap and pulling out it's contents: the letters that she had received from Severus all those years ago.

When Severus had graduated, he had told her in no uncertain terms that he might not be able to see her again for a long time. She remembered that moment as if it happened yesterday.

* * *

><p><em>Esme sat near the window in her train compartment, staring out at the sunny countryside zooming past in lovely blurring colors. She had a grin plastered on her face as the train chugged past a field of wild flowers. Another school year was done, and she was on her way home for the summer holidays. And what made things better was that she had only one more year at Hogwarts left. <em>

"_Well, look who it is," an annoying voice sniggered from the opposite side of the compartment. Esme growled slightly in her mind, silently cursing the red-haired girl sitting across from her. Lily had insisted that her boyfriend should sit with them on the train ride home. But WHY OH WHY did his friends have to tag along? Especially when one of them was the school man-whore, Sirius Black, who was the one that had piped up and caused Esme to curse at her friend. "It's Snivellus Snape!" _

_Esme watched as an arrogant smirk found it's way onto James Potter's face as he looked at the door of the compartment, where seventeen-year-old Severus Snape stood, still in his school uniform like she was, glaring at the four boys sitting inside. Esme noticed sadly that Lily, who was sitting comfortably in James' arms, was glaring daggers at Severus. It was sad because the two used to be such good friends until Severus accidentally called Lily the worst name imaginable._

_He had called her a Mudblood, which was a fowl name for someone who was Muggle-born, as it mainly says a Muggle-born has dirty or tainted blood._

_One would think that Esme would be angry with him as well, due to the fact that her mother was Muggle-born and that Lily was her friend. But she knew that it was an accident. Severus, like everyone else in the world, had a tendency to say things he didn't mean to when he was angry. It didn't help that the very boys who were sitting in the compartment had used the Levicorpus charm on him, causing him to hand upside down from his ankle in mid-air, and his pants had somehow wound around his ankles as well, exposing his boxers._

_Esme had been a witness to the whole thing, and when he had run after Lily begging for forgiveness, Esme had run after him, shouting creative insults at the four boys who were laughing away on the Hogwarts lawn. She had told him that he was still her friend no matter what when his attempts at reconciling with Lily were fruitless; she had refused to forgive him. Esme had watched Severus' heart break almost cleanly in two that day, because she knew that he was practically in love with Lily and now she didn't want anything to do with him anymore. Lily had even gotten mad at Esme for a week or so, wondering why she was still friends with him. Esme had given her reasons and Lily refused to talk to her for the rest of the week, until finally she had said that she would try to deal with Esme still being friends with Severus. That didn't stop her from glaring at him or turning her head or back on him when he would look at her, like he was doing currently._

"_What are you up to, Snivellus?" Sirius cackled, looking over at the boy with the scratched up face sitting next to him. Remus Lupin said nothing, just smiled slightly. "Come to fall down at Lily's feet again?"_

_The short, pudgy one of James Potter's group, Peter Pettigrew, burst out laughing as if he had been told the funniest thing on the planet. Esme resisted the urge to punch him in the face, as she found him extremely annoying._

_Severus ignored the teasing and looked straight at Esme, the Ravenclaw in a sea of Gryffindors, the house he could tolerate besides his own mingling with the house that he–as a member of Slytherin House–despised the most. His facial expression relaxed only slightly._

"_Esme, could I talk to you for a moment?" he had asked._

_Esme nodded and stood up almost immediately, feeling her cheeks go hot at the thought of just her and Severus alone together without anyone watching. She walked towards him, stepping over James', Lily's, Sirius', Remus', and Peter's feet on her way towards him._

"_Ooh," Peter giggled. "Going to go snog Remus' girlfriend, are you Snape? He won't take too kindly to that!"_

_Esme's eyes traveled to Remus, whose scarred cheeks reddened slightly. It was no secret that Remus had a crush on her. He was the one out of the four boys that she liked the most, but she didn't like him in that way. And she told him so, telling him that she was flattered by his interest in her, but he was more like a brother to her than anything else and admitting that she liked someone else. Remus understood, but it didn't stop him from fawning over her. Esme didn't mind. She thought it was cute._

_Esme's eyes turned back to Severus to discover that he was also blushing, which subsequently made her cheeks a darker red. She found that he was rather adorable when he blushed._

_Severus said nothing, but turned and walked out of the compartment, gesturing for her to follow. She looked back at Lily to see her reaction. She looked skeptical, but she nodded her reluctant okay._

_Esme walked out of the compartment in pursuit of Severus, who had waited for her for a few minutes before continuing onward. He stopped at the end of the car, somewhat in the shadows of the corner, and turned to her._

"_Listen Esme," he began, looking down at his shoes, playing with the sleeve of his robe. Esme tilted her head, waiting patiently for him to continue. "You are my friend, and I enjoy spending time with you. But…as soon as the train gets to Kings Cross, I feel that that will be the last time I see you for a long time."_

_Esme felt her stomach slowly begin to sink in sadness and confusion. Why was he telling her this? Why couldn't he have just kept quiet about it and she would be none the wiser? _

"_What?" she squeaked._

_Severus ran a hand through his hair, looking agitated. "I mean, I'm going to…start working soon. And the line of work I'm going into…won't allow me much free time to see you."_

_Esme's stomach sank lower, and she felt her eyes beginning to sting. "So…you brought me here…to say goodbye?"_

_He hung his head. "I think that's all I can say right now, Esme."_

_Esme's lower lip trembled as tears sprung to her eyes. So that was it, then. This would be the last time she would see him for a very long while, the last time she would hear his voice, the last time she would catch the natural scent of him. She would be losing a close friend today, losing someone she cared deeply for._

_She would be losing a piece of her heart. _

_She sniffed involuntarily, causing Severus' head to jerk up to look at her. His eyes widened in horror as he took in her trembling lips and the tears spilling from her eyes._

"_No, no, Esme!" he said in a panic, his face more strained than she had ever seen it, except perhaps when he had told her his first attempt at reconciling with Lily had failed. He placed his warm hands on her shoulders. "No, please don't cry!"_

_She sniffed again, looking down at her shoes like he had a few minutes before. "But I'll never see you again…" she whimpered._

"_No Esme, no!" his voice dropped to a desperate, pleading whisper so that no one else in the train car could hear him. "I didn't say I would never see you again! I just said I won't see you for a long time!"_

"_But it's still the same thing!" she hiccupped, swiping a few of her tears away with her hand. _

"_No, Esme, it's not!" to her surprise, Severus did something that he had never done to her before, something he would only do to Lily back when they were still friends._

_Severus pulled her tightly into his arms._

_Her nose was gently smashed into his firm chest, and his strong arms were wrapped around her shoulders. One hand gently rubbed her back while the other kept her close to him. Esme blinked in surprise. _

"_It's not the same." He insisted softly, his cheek pressing against the side of her head. "I know for a fact that we will see each other again…someday…but not for a long while."_

_Esme sniffed, feeling tears brimming again, and buried her face into his wiry shoulder, rubbing her face into his robes like a young child. His hand continued to rub her back, causing her fresh tears to fall because she would miss it when they wouldn't see each other._

"_Please don't cry…" he whispered the plea again. She moved her head to press the bridge of her nose against his neck, his hair tickling her forehead, left cheek, and ear. "Just because I won't be able to see you for a long time doesn't mean I can't write to you."_

_Esme moved her head again to look him in the eyes but still keeping her face pressed near his neck. Hope had sparked in her chest. "You will write to me, right?"_

"_Of course I will." He murmured, pulling back to look into her eyes properly, giving her a small, saddened smile. _

"_Promise?" one corner of her mouth lifted in a half-hearted, lopsided smile, laughing at herself on the inside for acting like such a child._

"_I promise." _

"_Cross you heart?" She drew an X above her left breast with her finger, over her heart._

_He mimicked her and drew an X on his chest where his heart was with his finger, a small amused smirk playing on his lips. "Cross my heart."_

* * *

><p>Esme crashed back to present day, looking down at the bundle of letters that had slipped from her fingers and landed on the mattress. She picked it back up gingerly and unfolded the letters. She had kept these after all these years. She had kept them because they were her only way of talking to Severus, especially when his letters began arriving so few and far in between. And she missed him terribly.<p>

She separated one letter from the rest, and unfolded it so she could read the works written on it in black ink. It was the last letter that Severus had sent to her before he had stopped talking to her altogether. She cherished this one the most.

_October 12, 1978_

_To Esme, _

_I truly am sorry that I haven't responded in so long. Things have come up, and as I've said before, work has kept me quite busy. It is a miracle that I have found free time in order to write to you._

_I am very well, thank you. I have just been busy with work, as I have already said. My mother's depression over __his__ death is getting worse, but at least she tries to be happy when I am there. But I know it's not the same. What I would give to drag him from his grave and show him what he has done to my mother, and probably throw in a couple of jinxes and hexes at him whilst I'm at it. At least my mother remembers that I am still here, and she still takes care of herself, so she's fine in that department. Thank you for asking about her well-being. She wanted me to say hello to you for her. _

_So you are a seventh year now? It seems like only yesterday that you were that annoying little first year, not paying attention to where you were going and pumping into people and things. It is quite amazing how much you have grown since then, now that I think about it. I had heard that you are Head Girl now. You get to go Headhunting for unruly students after curfew. I wish I could've done that. But then again I wasn't much of a teacher's pet like you were. Just kidding._

_I'm sorry, but I have to go now. Duty calls, you know._

_Your Friend,_

_Severus_

Esme finished reading the letter before putting it back with the others and sliding them back into the envelope. She got up to put the envelope back into her leather suitcase, her mind even more restless that it was previously. On her way back to bed, she gave a small wave of her hand, and all the torches extinguished themselves, the smoke swirling upwards as if carried by a draft.

She climbed back into bed, laying down and staring at the wood of her four-poster again, all kinds of questions assaulting her mind. Why had he stopped writing to her? Why had he acted so silent towards her at dinner? Why had he refused to answer her in their conversation?

What in the world was he working on back then?

She didn't know. And just laying there wondering wasn't going to get her the answers she needed.

With a loud, frustrated sigh, Esme turned on her side and buried her hands under her pillows, ready for a restless night of minimal sleep.

* * *

><p>The next morning found Esme not in her sleeping quarters, but in another room with platform-like desks pushed against opposite walls, and a larger desk sitting in front of a tall window, which overlooked the Forbidden Forest. She was busy setting books on the shelves and dusting off the desks and seats. This was the Charms classroom.<p>

Esme hummed a little tune as she set her last book on the last bookshelf, which she had made herself magically. She didn't fancy the idea of stacking her books in precarious heaps under the window like her predecessor, Professor Flitwick, did.

She sighed happily as she took in the sight of her new classroom and how everything was spotless and clean. The students would be arriving tonight, and classes started at nine a.m. the next morning, so there really wasn't any time in between to clean. Not unless she wanted to fall asleep while teaching the next day.

She sat down at the larger desk, which was her teaching desk, and spread out a fresh roll of parchment in front of her. She picked up her quill, made of a barn owl feather, and dipped it into a small bottle of emerald green ink. She bent over the parchment and drew out a grid of the other desks in the room, which were the students' desks. Setting her quill in the ink bottle, Esme reached for the rolls of parchment sticking out of the top of her leather bag, which was sitting on a chair near her desk and had been cleaned out and re-filled with the things she needed for teaching. She picked a random student roster and unrolled it, seeing the words 'Fourth Year Students' written at the top in the Headmaster's neat, looping handwriting. Picking up her quill again, Esme wrote "Fourth Year Seating Chart" at the top of the new parchment, above her grid drawing. She then proceeded to write down the Fourth Year Students' names in the individual grids alphabetically. When she was done, she set the new seating chart aside and grabbed a fresh piece of parchment, repeating her movements with the other years.

She had just finished the First Year Seating Chart when she heard a knock on the classroom door. "Come in!" she called.

The door opened, and the sight of the usually cheery Professor Dumbledore greeted her. "Ah, Esme," he said lightly. "I trust you are getting settled in?"

Esme nodded. "Just making up seating charts for the students." She told him.

Dumbledore nodded. "A good thing to do," he commented, his expression turning serious. "But I'm afraid I have to ask you to postpone finishing that for a little bit."

Esme screwed the cap onto her ink bottle upon hearing this, and she set her quill down next to it. She got a better look at the Headmaster and realized that he was not alone. Minerva, Professor Sprout, Professor Quirinus Quirrel–the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher–, Madame Rolanda Hooch–the Flying Instructor–, Hagrid, and Severus were all standing around him. Esme tilted her head curiously, waiting for Dumbledore to elaborate, as she knew he would.

"I had told you yesterday, Esme," Dumbledore began. "That I needed your help in protecting the Sorcerer's Stone."

Esme realized what he was getting at. "Oh, yes." She said. "I suppose we're going to set the enchantments, then?"

"Correct." Dumbledore smiled.

Esme got up from her chair and walked towards them, blushing at the knowledge that Severus was watching her make her way towards the group. She closed the door behind her and locked it up with her key, and the group departed up the stairs to the third floor, where Dumbledore had said the stone would be kept.

After going through the trap door and what seemed like an eternity of walking, they stopped in a very large chamber. "In the next room is where the Stone will be kept." Dumbledore informed them. He turned towards the group of assembled teachers and staff. "This room is where the enchantments will end. We'll go backwards so that we don't set any of them off or have to deal with them ourselves. Severus, why don't you go first?"

Severus said nothing, but he walked to the middle of the room. Esme watched him almost glide past her, and she stared at him in awe. He looked so different from the teenage boy she once knew him as, so powerful. Then again, he was thirty-one years old.

Esme watched as he pulled out his wand, which was as black as his clothing, and flicked it once. With a tiny popping noise, a table appeared in the room. She watched as he rummaged around in his robes and pulled out various potion bottles. He had seven total, and he lined them up in a neat row on the table. Next he pulled out a roll of parchment.

"Could I perhaps see that, Severus?" Dumbledore asked. Severus nodded, handing the parchment to the Headmaster, who unrolled it. Esme peered over his shoulder to read what it said.

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, whichever you would fine,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand on either end, _

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

Esme's eyebrows shot up as she glanced at Severus, who was still trying to avoid looking at her after he had noticed her reading the parchment. His enchantment was a logical puzzle, not magic. If someone were trying to get to the stone, he or she had to think carefully to figure out which potion would get them through to the stone.

Wait. Get through what, exactly?

As if on cue, fire sprung up on either side of the chamber, in front of the doors. In front of the door leading to the stone, black flames rose up angrily. In front of the door they had just come through, purple flames flickered to life.

Oh. Get through _that. _Gotcha.

Severus walked towards the purple flames and waved his wand again. The flames leapt aside, permitting enough room for all of them to get past. It was logical that Severus was able to do that, seeing as this was his enchantment.

The group hurried through the flames and into the next room. Quirrel suggested that they all move on to the next room, as he was going to use a troll–a big creature who carried a club for a weapon and was incredibly stupid–as his enchantment. So if a person wanted to get to the stone, he or she had to fight the troll, which was dangerous in itself.

In the next room, Minerva conjured up a giant wizards chess set. It was like normal Muggle chess, only you controlled where the pieces went with commands, and when taking your opponents piece, your piece would smash the opposing piece to bits. So in order to get past this enchantment, you had to win the game of chess.

When they made their way to the next room, Dumbledore looked at Esme. "It's your turn, Esme." He told her.

Esme nodded. Then she looked at the group of teachers. "You may want to move towards the door." She pointed towards the door they would have to go through next. The group did as she requested and stood there, their eyes all trained on her.

Esme took a deep breath a pulled out her wand. Giving it a wave, she spoke loudly "_Pluvia!"_

At first nothing happened. The rest of the staff, save the Headmaster and Severus, were looking at her oddly, as if she had lost her mind. Then a loud clap of thunder sounded from the ceiling. A moment later, torrents of rain were falling down onto the stone floor. Thinking quickly, Esme pointed her wand at the group and shouted _"Pluvia Contego!"_

An invisible, dome-like shield spread over the group, and the rain splattered onto it without getting the ones it protected wet. Esme ran for cover under the shield, stopping next to Severus, who finally looked at her and seemed to nod his approval at her spell. Esme blushed. She had come up with these spells on her own, but that wasn't her whole enchantment. Finally, she pointed her wand at the ground a few feet away from where they stood, drawing a straight horizontal line as she said _"Volubilis Terra!"_

The floor behind the magical line that she drew began to shudder and groan. Cracks appeared in the stone which extended and divided the floor up into a honeycomb pattern. The honeycomb sections began to rise and fall, looking like the intense waves of a stormy ocean. Esme sighed again, turning a smile on the impressed gazes of her colleagues.

"If anyone was to try to get the Stone," she explained. "They would have to cross this stony sea in order to get to the next room. That is easier said than done because the spell causes the floor to be unpredictable. The rain is an added bonus to make it more difficult by making the stone slippery."

"Very good, Esme." Dumbledore beamed. He turned and walked through the door to the next room.

Esme sighed happily, glad her enchantment was placed, and turned to follow him.

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><p><strong>Well there ya have it!<strong>

**Reviews are love, constructive criticism will be accepted, and flames will be used to heat my house lol Damn it's cold!**

**Until next time, my lovely readers!**

**~H.E.T.**


	4. Chapter 4: The Start of Term Banquet

**Hello everybody!**

**Well here it is! Chapter 4 is finally here!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This series of epic awesomness belongs to the one and and only J. K. Rowling. I only own Esme.**

_**Enjoy!**_

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><p><em><strong>The object of education is to prepare the young to educate themselves throughout their lives - Robert Maynard Hutchins<strong>_

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><p>Later that evening, Esme found herself sitting in her seat at the Staff Table in the Great Hall once again. Giddy butterflies were fluttering around in her stomach, and it was all she could do not to squeal with excitement. If she were a little girl instead of a thirty year old woman, she would be bouncing up and down elatedly in her seat. But she had to be professional here, not childish, so she stayed still. But why on earth was she so wound up?<p>

The Start-of-Term Banquet was about to begin, that's why!

Esme just couldn't believe that she was so thrilled about it. She had attended this same banquet for all seven years of her schooling, and it was all basically the same. Maybe it was the fact that she was sitting at the Staff Table this time instead of the Ravenclaw table that was making her so anxious. Or maybe it was the knowledge that tomorrow morning she would be beginning her career as a teacher.

Whatever the reason, Esme could not for the life of her wipe off the goofy grin that had found its way onto her lips.

Severus was sitting in his seat beside her, the same grouchy scowl on his face as he stared down at the empty plate in front of him. Esme turned to look at him, flashing a curious closed-mouth smile.

"What's the matter, Severus?" she asked him. His dark onyx eyes shifted to look at her, and his eyebrows twitched downward even further than they already were. "Why are you so bad-tempered? First Term is starting tomorrow!"

Severus' scowl deepened and he kept his mouth shut. Esme turned away knowing he probably wasn't going to answer her. She sighed to herself. How in the world was she going to get him to talk to her again?

"I don't see any reason to be happy about it."

Esme's eyes widened as she whipped her head around to stare at her old friend. He had turned his head, only slightly so, but just enough that he could make proper eye contact with her without his dark and greasy hair getting in the way.

He had finally uttered a complete sentence to her.

Esme couldn't find her voice for a moment, so shocked was she that he had finally said more than one word. She stared wide-eyed at him for a few minutes, her mouth hanging open. It took an eyebrow-raise from him to get her to speak again.

"Wh-what?" she finally managed to squeak.

Severus turned his head a little more to see her better, his dark eyes trained on her own. They began analyzing her as he spoke again, softer than before. "I fail to see why you are getting so excited over the arrival of the students."

Esme's shock melted into puzzlement. "Why wouldn't I be excited, Severus? I get to start teaching tomorrow!"

He snorted. "Well, be prepared. Most of these students are complete dunderheads who only do things halfway correctly."

"Oh, now I don't think so, Severus." She said with a good natured laugh. "You are still as negative as ever."

Severus grunted.

"I really meant that as a compliment." She told him with a smile. "Your response tells me that you haven't changed at all…well, other than physical appearance-wise."

His eyes seemed to darken. "You don't know that." He said softly.

Esme patted him on the arm, which caused him to flinch. "Of course I do," she said lightly, her smile still in place. "You've always acted like this for as long as I've known you."

Severus didn't say a word afterwards, and he turned back to staring down at his plate. Esme became puzzled again and briefly wondered if she had said something wrong. But her stupefaction stopped immediately when she saw the doors of the Great Hall open and the second through seventh year students filed into the room.

Esme watched as the students sat at the four long House tables that stretched the length of the hall. She was especially glad to see the students' whose neckties had the color of blue and bronze and whose robes had the patch of a raven surrounded in blue. Ah, it was good to see inhabitants of her old House of Ravenclaw.

She watched as second through seventh year students from all four houses spotted her and were looking at her curiously or suspiciously in the case of the green and silver clad Slytherin students. Feeling self conscious all of a sudden, Esme tried to tidy her hair, which was spiraled in its usual light curls all the way down to her lower back. She then smoothed the skirts of her dress over her lap, despite the fact that it was hidden under the table.

It wasn't long before all the students were seated and were chatting away to one another amongst their houses. Esme still saw some students shoot curious glances her way and scoot closer to the table, presumably wondering to their friends who the woman sitting next to Professor Snape was.

The doors to the Great Hall opened once again (Esme hadn't noticed they had closed), and Minerva came gliding through in her emerald green robes, chin lifted high and proud, a roll of parchment clutched in her left hand. Behind her followed around forty children, all looking to be around eleven years old and all looking either nervous or excited as they gazed with awe and wonder at their surroundings.

Esme's smile widened to a thrilled grin once more. The first years had arrived.

Minerva led them down the central isle towards the platform where the Staff Table stood. She climbed up on to the platform and turned around towards the first years. "Can you wait along here, please." She said.

They obediently stopped short of the platform, all having the feeling that Professor McGonagall was not someone to cross. Ever. Esme watched as a few pairs of eyes from their little group swept across the Staff table. When they met hers, she gave them a warm and welcoming smile, to which some of them returned, albeit nervously.

"Now, before we begin," Minerva said loudly once she got the Hall to quiet down. "Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words."

Professor Dumbledore stood up from his equivalent-to-a-throne chair and looked out at the students. All eyes were trained on him.

"I have a few start-of-term notices that I wish to announce." Dumbledore said, his voice loud enough for someone to hear even in the hallway outside. "To the first years, please note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students."

Esme noticed that the doors to the Great Hall opened once again, but only slightly, allowing an old and ugly man to shuffle in halfway, a long haired cat at his ankles.

"Also, our caretaker, Mr. Argus Filch, has asked me to remind you that the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."

Esme tried not to smirk knowingly and raise suspicion among the students. The 'anyone who does not wish to die' detail was all the students needed to know, and informed them that they weren't getting any more information than that.

"Finally, Professor Filius Flitwick, our Charms teacher for many years has decided to retire and enjoy the rest of his years." The House tables erupted into whispers for about two minutes before Dumbledore silenced them. Esme's heart began pounding. Dumbledore was going to introduce her to the school!

"There is good news, though." the Headmaster continued, smiling kindly. "I'm pleased to welcome Professor Esme O'Brien, who has kindly consented to take his place as Charms Teacher and as Ravenclaw Head of House. Good luck, Professor."

Esme stood up awkwardly and gave a small wave, a nervous smile plastered on her face. The students clapped politely, most not knowing how to react to their new Charms Professor. A few Ravenclaws, she noticed, were clapping a little harder than the rest. Well, she thought, at least I have some support from the student. It will just take time for them to warm up to me.

She sat down again when the clapping died down.

"Thank you." Dumbledore smiled again and sat down. Esme's heart fluttered with excitement as she watched Minerva begin unrolling her parchment. She was standing next to a stool that someone had placed on the platform. Perched on the stool was an old and battered looking hat.

Esme smiled at the hat. The Sorting was about to begin.

"When I call your name," Minerva addressed the first years gentler than she usually would. She probably didn't want to scare them out of their wits. "You will come forth, I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be Sorted into your Houses."

The Deputy Headmistress picked up the hat and looked at the parchment for the first name. _"Abbott, Hannah!"_

A girl with blonde pigtails and a rosy face stumbled onto the stage. Her wide eyes flitted to each of the teachers nervously before settling on the hat. She turned around and sat down on the stool, where she was now faced with the watching eyes of about two hundred and seventy-nine students. Her rosy face turned pale as Minerva placed the Sorting hat on her head, which slid down over her eyes. Esme watched as the Hat's pointed top tipped forwards, folding the front of the Hat into several creases. A few of the creases moved, and Esme knew that the Hat was live and doing it's job.

She heard the Hat whispering to Hannah Abbott, but couldn't decipher what it was saying. Most likely it was assessing her personality traits. That was how the Hat determined what House a student would belong in.

Finally after much whispering, the Hat shouted out to the rest of the student body in a gravelly, male voice. _"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

Hannah Abbott sighed with relief that it was over, and the table farthest to the right began cheering for her. She ran to the table with a huge smile on her face and sat down as many of the older students began to welcome her. Esme smiled.

_"Bones, Susan!"_shouted Minerva, and another girl with a round face and long, dark red hair inched forward onto the stage towards the stool. It wasn't long before the Hat declared her a Hufflepuff, and she ran off happily to sit next to Hannah Abbott while the older students cheered and clapped.

Esme joined in the clapping at the Staff table, and noticed that Professor Sprout looked especially pleased. Of course she would be. She was the Hufflepuff Head of House.

Minerva looked at her parchment again. _"Boot, Terry!"_

Esme watched as the dark haired boy's face paled as he crept forward from the other first years. He sat down on the stool as the Hat slid over his brown eyes. Esme watched silently as the hat whispered to the boy, assessing his personality. Finally, the Hat came to a decision. _"RAVENCLAW!"_

Esme grinned and clapped happily along with the older Ravenclaws as Terry Boot ran for the second table on the left. The first new Ravenclaw, she thought to herself with a barely audible sigh as she watched several students shake his hand. How exciting!

It wasn't long before Terry Boot was joined by miss Mandy Brocklehurst, and she was extended the same warm welcome as the boy sitting across from her. Minerva smiled briefly before calling the next name.

_"Brown, Lavender!"_

As the bubbly-looking girl approached the stool, Esme began remembering what it had been like when she had been Sorted.

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><p><em>Esme's heart was practically pounding in her ears as Adalson Nighman ran to the Gryffindor table. They were getting dangerously close to the O's now, and there were only a few first years left to be sorted, herself included. She was bound to be next.<em>

_As luck would have it, the next two words that came out of Professor McGonagall's mouth were the two words she had been dreading to hear ever since she had arrived at Hogwarts._

"O'Brien, Esme!"

_Esme's face paled as she slowly and hesitantly inched forward. McGonagall looked at her expectantly, but patiently, the Sorting Hat clutched in her hand. Esme turned around and perched nervously on the stool, waiting. The last thing she saw before the Hat dropped over her eyes was Lily waving to her and crossing her fingers from the Gryffindor table, and Severus watching her intently and nodding to her from the Slytherin table._

"Ah,"_said a low voice in her ear. The Sorting Hat was speaking to her. "The eldest child of the O'Brien heir. Your father and mother were both fine students, both of different houses."_

_This was true. Esme's father, Asinius O'Brien, was a Slytherin back in his Hogwarts days. Esme's mother, Vesta O'Brien, who had been Vesta Spence then, was in Ravenclaw._

_"Let's see where the offspring of such a pairing and with such a combination of their traits will fit in..." the Sorting Hat whispered._

_And then it had started with its analysis. "No, I don't think you have the true courage to become a Gryffindor...you are loyal to your loved ones, so maybe Hufflepuff would be right...you have a small amount of ambition, perhaps enough for you to be in Slytherin?...ah, but you've a ready mind and a fondness for knowing things. Yes, I believe now that the right choice for you is..._RAVENCLAW!"

_Esme sighed with relief as the Ravenclaw table erupted with cheers. McGonagall took the Hat off her head and she skipped towards the table second from the left. She looked over at the Gryffindor table right next to the Ravenclaws' and saw Lily grinning at her, giving her the thumbs up sign. She smiled at her new friend before looking over at the Slytherin table on the opposite side. Severus was still gazing at her with much focus, but he nodded again and gave her the faintest hint of a smile._

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><p>Esme came back to the present just as Justin Finch-Fletchley was running towards the clapping Hufflepuff table. She could already see one first year sitting at the Slytherin table. She smiled. Severus must be pleased.<p>

_"Granger, Hermione!"_

Esme saw the girl's brown eyes light up. She scuttled quickly towards the stool, her bushy brown hair bouncing behind her. She sat down and fidgeted eagerly as Minerva placed the Hat on her head. After a few moments, the Hat shouted _"GRYFFINDOR!"_and Hermione Granger practically skipped towards her new table.

Esme barely caught a red haired boy in the first year bunch, tossing his head back with a dismayed groan. She recognized him almost immediately, not because she knew him personally, but because she knew of his family. That boy was a member of the Weasley family, a Pureblood clan with hearts of gold. It seemed that the Weasley boy did not want Hermione Granger in Gryffindor. Oh well, Esme thought with a silly smile. He'll just have to get used to it.

After a while, Minerva called out _"Longbottom, Neville!"  
><em>  
>The poor, fidgety boy, who didn't seem to have lost all of his baby fat yet, tripped on the way to the stool. And when he had been declared a Gryffindor, he ran off while still wearing the Hat. He had to run back in order to give it to the next person in line, while several students from the tables and first year bunch laughed at him. The poor kid was going to get picked on a lot, Esme could tell. She would do her best to help him.<p>

"Malfoy, Draco!" Esme's eyes widened and stared at the pale-faced, platinum-blonde-haired boy that swaggered forth next. He was almost a spitting image of old Lucius Malfoy, someone Esme really didn't like. Sure the man had been attractive back in the day, so attractive that Lily had even sometimes swooned over him until she remembered what he was like and then stopped. His personality, on the other hand, was far from attractive. Well, at least to the non-Slytherins' of the school. He just seemed so...arrogant. And she didn't like it one bit.

Of course, just like his parents before him, young Draco was Sorted into Slytherin. He walked towards his new table with a smug smile on his face.

The names continued on, at one point becoming interesting. It seemed as if a pair of twin girls were in the first year class, and one would think they would get Sorted into the same House. But instead, "Patil, Padma." was Sorted into Ravenclaw, and "Patil, Parvati." was now a Gryffindor.

Esme was watching as Sally-Anne Perks skipped off to the Hufflepuff table when she heard it. Two words had come flying from Minerva's mouth that made her stop dead in her tracks.

_"Potter, Harry!"_

Esme blinked in shock. She watched as a skinny boy with jet black hair and bright green eyes walked slowly forwards, looking behind him as the sounds of whispering students wafted through the Hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"_The _Harry Potter?"

"_No way!_ _The _Harry Potter is _here?_"

She watched him get closer. He looked so much like his father. She remembered that he had been very skinny in his youth too. She peered through the boy's bangs, trying not to call attention to herself (not that she needed to worry, as other teachers were trying as well), trying to see it. Sure enough, partially hidden from view behind his black bangs was a scar. A red cut shaped like a bolt of lightning.

That was him.

He was her best friend's son.

He was Lily's son

She watched as he sat down on the stool and the Hat was placed on his head. As soon as it slid over his eyes, Lily's eyes, Esme turned to Severus.

Severus had gone paler than he normally was. His faced displayed nothing, but his dark eyes betrayed his shock, anger, and pain.

Of course he would feel those things. He loved Lily, but Lily married James Potter.

"Severus," Esme could barely whisper. "It's Lily's son."

Severus's usual frown deepened. "Indeed," he replied hoarsely. "But he is the spitting image of his arrogant father."

Of course he would be mad about that too. "Not quite, Severus." she said. "Didn't you see his eyes? He has Lily's eyes. Bright green."

Severus scoffed, signaling that he wasn't going to speak any more about the boy. Which was just as well, she supposed. He would just get angry about the fact that Lily chose someone else.

Finally, the Hat that was still on top of Harry Potter's head shouted _"GRYFFINDOR!"_

Esme began clapping and laughing merrily as the Gryffindor table exploded with cheers. Twin boys, who Esme realized had to be older brothers of the Weasley boy in first year, began chanting _"We got Potter! We got Potter! We got Potter!"_

She looked over at Severus again, but he seemed to be glaring at Harry as the boy dashed to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to what looked to be like the eldest of the Weasley boys. Briefly, Esme frowned. Just because Harry was the son of his old school enemy didn't mean Severus could shoot hateful glares at the boy. He was, after all, Lily's only son.

A few more names and the Weasley first year was up next.

"Weasley, Ronald!"

The boy with flaming red hair looked to have swallowed a lump in his throat. He trekked to the stool, his freckly face pale. When the Sorting Hat was placed on his head, it shouted loud enough for everyone to hear.

_"Ha!"_ It scoffed suddenly, startling the poor boy and making Minerva nearly jump a foot into the air. "_Another_ Weasley! I know_ just_ what to do with _you!"_

The boy clenched his eyes shut, preparing for the worst.

_"GRYFFINDOR!"_

The boy heaved a sigh of relief and ran to sit next to Harry, as his elder brothers all stood up, clapping the hardest.

Finally, the Sorting had ended, and the chatter had begun once again as someone took the Hat and stool away. It didn't last long, though, before Minerva clinked her glass with her fork, which created a steady ringing sound that told everyone to be quiet.

"You're attention, please." she said.

Dumbledore stood up once more, smiling broadly at the students. He gestured to the table tops in front of them.

"Let the feast begin!"

Suddenly, there was a collective sigh from all the students as the empty dishes and platters suddenly filled with food. Esme's mouth watered at the sight of all her favorites. She didn't know what to start eating first! So to make herself happy, she grabbed a little bit of each; a steak here, a spoon of mashed potatoes there, a few chicken wings thrown in for the heck of it, and buttered corn and a salad on the side.

She had just finished practically drowning her French fries in ketchup and was reaching for a platter of fruit when she spotted it. A familiar green fruit with a ring of small seeds in the middle.

_Kiwi._

Esme retracted her hand immediately. Kiwi! She was _allergic_ to Kiwi! It made horrible looking welts and rashes pop up on her skin, and her throat would swell up and close. She held her hand to her face, covering her mouth and nose before turning to Severus, who was talking to Professor Quirrell.

"Severus?" she asked. Severus stopped talking to Quirrell and looked at her, one eyebrow raised at her.

"Do you think you could move that fruit a little away from me?" she pointed to the platter of fruit that had the evil kiwis on it.

Severus didn't budge, his eyebrow still raised. She sighed. He had forgotten about her allergy. Well, she didn't blame him. They hadn't seen each other for thirteen years. It was easy to forget in that time.

"I'm allergic to kiwis, remember?" she said, hoping to jog his memory. She watched as Severus' onyx eyes drifted to the fruit tray, probably noticing the kiwis sticking out everywhere.

He opened his mouth to ask why she couldn't just take any other fruit besides the kiwis, but he stopped himself. He knew what peanut oil allergies did to some students if they even smell anything that contained peanut oil. They couldn't even eat anything that had touched the food with peanut oil on it. The same principle, then, must apply to Esme.

A memory flashed into his mind of a day during his fourth year at lunch time. There had been a collective gasp from the Ravenclaw table that had made him look up. His eyes widened as he saw Esme clutching her throat and struggling to breathe properly. Large welts and rashes were popping up all over her skin, which she now tried to scratch at with her other hand, the first still being occupied with her throat. She had been rushed to the Hospital Wing almost immediately. It turned out that she wasn't paying attention when grabbing for a strawberry and grabbed a kiwi instead, taking a huge bite out of it. She was in the Hospital Wing for the remainder of the day.

Remembering that experience, and how especially worried he had strangely gotten that day, Severus slid the fruit player over, almost knocking over his goblet of wine, which he managed to save just in time.

Esme took her hand away from her face and smiled. "Thank you, Severus." she said.

Severus only grunted again in reply.

By the time the dessert dishes cleaned themselves and left the plates sparkling on the table, Esme was completely stuffed. She sighed in agony, for she felt she ate a little too much. But honestly, how could she stop herself?

The Headmaster stood up once again, smiling broadly. Briefly Esme wondered if he should be getting up so much, considering his age. She dispersed the thought. He's gotten on well so far, hasn't he?

"And now, students, it is time for us to sing the school song!" Dumbledore said happily.

Esme inwardly groaned. This was the only part of the Start-of-Term Banquet that she didn't like. And judging from the moaning and grumbling from the rest of the staff, she could safely say that they didn't like it either.

Dumbledore pulled out his wand and flicked it once, making a golden ribbon shoot out and twist into the words of the song. "Everyone pick your favorite tune, and off we go!"

And then the school began to sing.

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something, please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot._

Esme never belted out the words like everyone else. She always thought she never sang well. She just whispered the words to herself. Next to her, Severus kept his mouth shut. He always did. Severus Snape did _not_ sing. _Period._

All the students finished at different times, due to the wide and painful difference in tunes and tempos. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing to a very slow funeral march. Esme stifled a laugh. They were funny buggers, those two.

Dumbledore counted off their last words with his wand, like a conductor in an orchestra, and they hall began clapping. Most of them, it seemed, we're clapping because it was over. Only a few clapped because it sounded good.

"Ah, music." The Headmaster said dreamily, wiping a tear from his eye. "A magic beyond all that we do here."

Esme giggled under her breath.

"And now, bedtime!" exclaimed Dumbledore. "Off you trot!"

The House Prefects' leaped into action. Shouts of "Gryffindors' this way!"; "Hufflepuff follow me!"; "Slytherins' over here!"; and "Ravenclaws' keep up please!" resounded over the chatter of the other students as the Prefects led the first years to their House Common Rooms. Esme briefly let her eyes wander to the retreating figure of Harry Potter among the Gryffindor first years. She just couldn't believe that he was here. She would finally get to meet the boy.

It seemed that Harry had felt her eyes trained on his back, because he turned his head and looked over his shoulder. Hazel and gold-flecked eyes met bright green ones, and Esme took the opportunity to smile warmly at him. The son of Lily and James Potter returned it, albeit awkwardy, before following the eldest Weasley out of the Great Hall.

Esme giggled to herself again before leaving the hall herself through the staff entrance and heading towards her sleeping quarters.

* * *

><p><strong>TA-DA! Well wad'ja think? Good? Bad? Asi-asi?<strong>

**Good news guys! I'll have more time to write because SUMMER IS ALMOST HERE! YAY! Only a week and three days and I'll officially be a junior! WHOOO!**

**But then I will miss all my senior friends, like TrenchCoatGuy here on the site :( *bursts into tears*. Oh well, at least I have fond memories of the graduading seniors. My sister is graduationg too. Holy shit where did the time go?**

**Reviews are love, constructive riticism is appreciated, and flames will be used to start a camp fire :3**

**Until next time, my lovely readers!**

**~H.E.T.**


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